Masters of the Shadowlands 7 - This is who I am by Sinclair Cherise Page B

wear modest clothing, use respectful language, and observe proper behavior. Her sister, Wendy, had been cynical enough to ignore their parents’ lectures, but Linda had never stopped trying to please them.
    Her husband had been much like her father, but despite his conservative nature, at least Frederick had possessed a sense of humor.
    A car door thudded, and as Linda turned, she heard, “Mom.”
    Her daughter was early. She plastered on a smile and dropped the brush behind the bushes. Thank goodness she’d finished eradicating the words from the wall. “Brenna!”
    In a denim skirt and white tank top, Brenna ran across the lawn to give Linda a long hug. “Oh, Mom, I missed you so much.”
    “I missed you too, honey.” Needing to stay strong for her baby, Linda blinked away tears and curved an arm around the girl. “Let’s go have some tea. I made cookies for you and Charles.”
    Brenna grimaced. “Mo-om. As if I’m not fat enough.”
    “You certainly are not. You’re lovely.”
    “As if.” Hands waving in the air, Brenna led the way to the kitchen. “My ass is too big, my tits are like watermelons, and—”
    Linda shook her head. Although an inch shorter than Linda’s five feet seven, Brenna was at least thirty pounds lighter and nowhere near Linda’s full figure. But over the years, Linda had learned to like having a curvy body. Brenna hadn’t yet. “Sweetie, you have a beautiful figure, but you’re never going to be tall and slender. It’s not in our genes.”
    “Yeah, I know.” Shoving her light brown hair behind her ears, she scowled. “Why couldn’t I have inherited Dad’s tall and skinny genes like Charles did?”
    “Sorry. I didn’t have a choice in that one.” Linda spoke lightly, ignoring the feeling of rejection. “Have you seen Charles lately?”
    “Not since we came over to make sure the house was okay.”
    “I appreciated you doing that.”
    Brenna shrugged away her mother’s thanks. “You look good. Tan and like you’ve been living the high life at Aunt Wendy’s.”
    Was that a hint of accusation in her words? Guilt tensed the muscles in Linda’s chest. “I spent a lot of time in Wendy’s garden.” Yanking out the stubborn quack grass ferociously as if to kill the monsters that’d destroyed her life. Crying when the scent of blooming roses reminded her of her mother. Shaking and vomiting. The oddest things had affected her, like when her shovel had cut a worm in half. She’d gone into hysterics for half the day. “But it wasn’t the high life.”
    “I’m sorry, Mom.” Tears welled in her daughter’s eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back, but sometimes I just… I don’t know why I said that.”
    “Oh, baby.” Linda hugged her girl, trying to work past the hurt. Brenna wasn’t cruel. “Do you remember when you ran away because I wouldn’t let you go to a sleepover? You took your wagon with all your dolls in it.”
    Brenna choked on a laugh. “When I was in kindergarten?”
    “Yes. For hours, we searched for you. You turned up at Myrtle’s, playing with her grandchildren. We were so relieved. We hugged you and kissed you. But then—”
    Brenna pulled away. “Daddy yelled at me. So did you. You guys never yelled, but…”
    “That’s right. But when you’ve been so scared, sometimes you react all over the person who scared you.”
    “Oh.” After a moment’s silence, she nodded. “Okay. I get it. I’ll try not to take it out on you.” Brenna wiped the tears from her eyes and attempted a frown. “But if I see you packing your dolls in the car, I’m going to yell.”
    “Fair enough.” Heavens, how did we make such beautiful children, Frederick? “Want to help me get food on for supper? Charles should be here in a couple of hours, and I have the makings for a pot roast.”
    “Well, duh. Does a bear sh—” She caught her mother’s warning look and adroitly substituted, “Poop in the woods? Can we add those little potatoes?”
    “Well,